


Our Pity Succeeds The Blurry Lines Of Our Quadrants

by JANDS (RainbowTentacle_Sama)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Quadrant Flipping/Merging/Blurring, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowTentacle_Sama/pseuds/JANDS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sneaky clown always manages to trick you into this, even if its just for a few minutes.<br/>You'd never tell him how much you love it when he does.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>[Disclaimer: Homestuck does not belong to me. I only own the situations I put the characters in. Everything that belongs to Andrew Hussie belongs to him. I am humbled by his pure awesomeness.]</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Pity Succeeds The Blurry Lines Of Our Quadrants

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:**   I love reviews! (And kudos are welcomed!)
> 
> ( **Disclaimer:**   The picture that accompanies this inspired this ficlet.  The picture is not mine and belongs to the artist who made it.)
> 
> ( **Clamier:** The prompt below is mine.)
> 
>  **A/N 3/27/16:** I went back in and added the picture. I also edited and revised some of the prompt below. Some of it is just Karkat's reactions. I had him a bit too much like a blushing uke to be very Karkat-ish in my view, so I went back and edited it a bit. I still might revise this, so be wary of that.

You don't know how he always manages to do it, but he does.  Somehow he _always_ gets his way -what you want be _damned-_  and you end up pressed flush against each other on the horn pile, your lips pressed firmly against his.

Like today, for example.  You were just minding your own complicated shit, trolling some of the assholes you call friends on your husktop, and the next thing you know, Gamzee walks in and plops down on the horn pile next to you. He's so pitiful, the idiot, and you can't help but get distracted from your trolling when you have a massive wreck of a troll curling around your hips.  Then you're in his lap and your arms are around him and his are around you, and then somehow you are both making out with each other.

You sigh against his lips, cupping his cheek in one hand. You reach an arm around him to prop yourself up -leaning on your forearm- so you can kiss the damn giant you call your moirail.

 

 

Or, matesprit?  Fuck, you're not too sure.  Moirails don't tend to do this or half of the other damn things you and he do. At least, you don't think so. Not from what you've learned from all the rom-coms you've watched and all the novels you've read. A little too much sloppy makeouts and touching for a moirallegiance, in your opinion.  Maybe you're flipping. Who the fuck knows?  Not you, that's who.

Honestly, you really don't care that much. Maybe it was the inane fool getting to you, but you just didn't give a fuck. You were actually fucking content with your life, for once in your damn life. What was it? Ah, yes. You're "fucking quitting all that over-thinking nonsense and getting your motherfucking chill on". Despite the dumb-ass phrasing over your idiotic matesprit, frankly, you think his advice would do you some good. Not that you would ever tell him that, of course.

Gamzee slides his arm down your back, playing with the hem of your sweater. He toys with the bottom of your sweater, running his fingers under the trim, and you shiver from the chill of his fingers. He chuckles, lips touching yours. You shudder against him and lick against his lips.  He accordingly parts them and tongues slide against the other's wetly.

You gasp when he pushes your shirt up; ice-cold fingers skirting up your back as you squirm, trying to escape his icy touch. Since your clown is fucking mindless and freakishly strong, you can't, so you deal with the frigid fingers skating up to your grub scars, and squirm more frantically.

You want to deck the dense clown when he sniggers against your lips.

You gasp, and push further into him when his cold fingers find your lowest grub scar, arching your back into his touch. You haven't moved where your hands were much, besides from all your frantic shifting, but you'd shimmed up the damn ladder of a moirail you have. Well at least you had some more height on him now. You weren't going to fucking listen to anyone who said that technically, no, you didn't, it was just because of the position. Let you have your happiness, damn it all.

"A-Asshole!" You manage to gasp into his mouth, before he chuckles and shuts you up by sliding his tongue down your throat.  Literally.  You guess it's genetics, because you don't know what the hell else it could be. It's not like he was a disgusting mutant like you, so you doubt the long ass tongue is a mutation.  Granted, all your other highblooded friends could have long assed tongues as well, you just wouldn't know about it, and for obvious reasons. It might just be something specific to his blood case-.

Your train of thought is cut off as he thrusts his tongue further down your throat, and you choke, not having expected that so soon, though you should've. The fucking idiot loved kissing. Especially deep throat kissing. Which you didn't even know was a fucking thing. Seriously, where the hell did he get that thing?! Maybe the fucking tongue was some kind of highblood mating privilege thing?! If it could even be consider that? You knew it was commonly accepted that to pail with a highblood was a...honor, but you always thought it was because of-. You stop that train of thought. You didn't need to bring up old fears. You were currently content and horny in the arms of your moirail/matesprit, and you were going to fucking enjoy it, damn it. You needed to stop thinking about his damn tongue and how it related to troll society, and start thinking about how it _felt fucking your throat_. Because, by _god_ did it feel _good_. Your nook throbs just thinking about that damn long muscle, and you feel a rush of heat as he tilts his head and slips you a bit more.

He pulls back a bit, lips leaving yours with a loud pop, and then he slowly leans back, sliding his tongue back down your throat. You choke wetly, saliva sliding down the sides of your mouth as he slides it down to the point where you are reflectively swallowing, your neck muscles trying to pull his tongue inside you.

His tongue down your throat reminds you of something else, and your nook throbs. You shudder and whimper, the sound muffled. He hums against your lips, and your groan comes out more of a  gurgle.  Fuck, you love when he does this, because it's so damn hot, and it feels so fucking good, but you also hate it when he does this because it's fucking embarrassing and disgusting as hell; slobbering and drooling like a damn beast all over your matesprit. It's a turn on, and yet not quite a turn off.

While he was busy choking you with his own damn tongue, you hadn't noticed that the sneaky fucker had managed to slip your sweater up over your shoulders, and it was now hanging around your neck.

You moan into his mouth, the sound being muffled by the muscle squirming around in your throat, as he mercilessly rubs and pets at your grub scars, moving the loose, silky skin protecting the muscle underneath -that used to be an extra leg for you- around in circles.

You gasp, and bring  your other hand up so you're cupping both of his cheeks, fully putting your weight on him and on the hand behind his head.

It's when you start to feel your bulge squirm out of its sheath, that you feel him pull back with a sopping wet, loud, smacking sound.

You feel embarrassed, having your sweater hanging around your neck, purple and red smeared on your chin and mouth, and your bulge demanding attention from the visible lump in your pants.

He chuckles, taking it all in, and raises a hand to stroke your cheek.

"So beautiful...."  He murmured, looking at you with that crooked little half smile of his.

Your cheeks burn, and your duck your head, hiding your face in his chest. You stretch out comfortably between his legs, and deny that you're cuddling into him. 

He keeps himself propped up on his elbows, and chuckles.

"It's all what is motherfucking true, best friend."

He leans fully on one elbow, and raises a hand to tilt your head up.  He leans down to engage you in a sweet and gentle kiss.

"l've got the purest of all motherfucking pity for my cheery blooded mate."

You flush and scowl, but kiss him back sweetly.

"Fuck you too, stupid clown...." You murmur against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Caption: Fig 1-GamKar Kissing. Source/Where I found the picture (Not saying the picture belongs to fuckyeahgamzkar, cause I don't know if it does, but this is where I found it. It looks like it was a reblog, but I couldn't find the picture via following the link)-[fuckyeahgamzkar](http://fuckyeahgamzkar.tumblr.com/page/3)


End file.
